


The Road to Otosan Uchi

by Doji_Faptsume



Category: Legend of the Five Rings
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Samurai, Scorpion Clan, Smut, Unrequited Love, l5r - Freeform, secondhandstrife
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:21:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25905004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doji_Faptsume/pseuds/Doji_Faptsume
Summary: What happened on the road to Otosan Uchi? Riding on horseback together for days on end is more stimulating and boring than Bayushi Makoto can stand, so he finds a way to make it more....interesting. Shameless fluff and smut.*This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Secondhand Strife podcast, in the Legend of the Five Rings universe, trademarked by Fantasy Flight Games. I have no claim to the IP. No Scorpions were hurt in the making of this fanfic.
Relationships: Bayushi Makoto/Daidoji Keizo, Bayushi Makoto/Moto Momotaro
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

“Fortunes,” Makoto muttered to himself. It had been five days stuck on the back of this horse holding onto this ridiculous Moto, and Otosan Uchi was nowhere in sight. Keizo had been ignoring Makoto so far on the journey, but why? When they had left Shiro Takasu things had been... nice? Yeah, nice.

 _I was just starting to get used to it_ , Makoto thought as he leaned forward to balance himself against Momotaro, the burly Moto who had so graciously offered Makoto a chance to ride up with him. With someone else doing the hard work of riding the horse, it was easy for Makoto’s thoughts to wander to the night before the start of their journey. He had been minding his own business relaxing in the onsen, and Keizo just _had_ to come in and join him.

Makoto certainly didn’t remember the Crane being that well built, but it was hard to get the image of him out of his head. The way his chest had heaved out of the water, running down a body in far better shape than Makoto had realised, decorated with an intricate sleeve of tattoos that wrapped around his left shoulder and all the way down his arm…

 _By Bishamon, has he always had so much ink? And those **thighs** …_ _Why do I have to be stuck in the courts right now?_

As if to add to his frustration, the horse chose this exact moment to act up, responding to some small creature scurrying across the road. Momotaro laughed as the sudden movement forced Makoto to grab onto him to keep himself from falling out of the saddle, and the Scorpion growled as his fingers dug into the man’s shoulder.

Why was this Moto so well built? Had the fortunes put him on this horse instead of behind Misuki so as to torment him while he longed for a certain someone else just as solid? Just as strong? All he’d need to do was close his eyes and imagine-

“Hey now, little prince! Not taking so well to life on the road as you do in your fancy palaces?”

Makoto was snapped out of his daydreaming by Momotaro’s booming voice, and he looked up to see him peering over his shoulder with an infectious grin and a twinkle in his eye.

“I’m doing just fine!” Makoto shot back, struggling to hide the rising color from his cheeks. “I just didn’t want to fall off and make you stop, that’s all.”

“Of course! Keep yourself close; we wouldn’t want anything too _dramatic_ to happen…”

Makoto could have sworn that Momotaro’s grin became just a little more devilish before he turned to face the road, urging his horse back into a trot. The rise and fall of the saddle underneath him only served to make things worse, however, and Makoto gritted his teeth as he felt his dick press up against it over and over again.

_Hotei! Why now??_

Makoto leaned back slightly, frustratedly trying to adjust his hips to pivot his fully erect member away from the back of the saddle – and Momotaro. This wasn’t the first time in the past few days that this had happened, and each time Makoto had tried to slide back and give it some space. He couldn’t have the Moto noticing what was going on, especially not with the tension looming between him and Keizo.

“Tiny Bird! You’ve had long enough to learn how to ride a horse,” Momotaro called out behind them suddenly. “Think you can beat me to the next waystation?”

He was calling back to Keizo, who was settled on Misuki’s horse. The two had been riding together throughout the journey, with Misuki teaching the Crane proper techniques for handling a horse. He had proven to be an apt rider, picking up the art with a grace that made Makoto furious, jealous, impressed… and perhaps a few other things he would not care to admit to himself - or Keizo.

“Learned to ride? Hardly, but I have been shown well, and I will do my best to uphold my teacher’s instructions” Keizo shot back. “I am certain that with Uma's aid and Misuki’s guidance, I will be able to give you and Arde a run for your koku.”

A signature charming smile bloomed across Keizo’s lips, and Makoto had to forcibly roll his eyes to stop himself from wondering how soft they might feel against his own. It was getting far too easy to be distracted by him, and he placed both hands on the back of the saddle to cover the prominent protrusion in his pants.

“Very well then,” Momotaro shouted. **“Ride with the wind!”**

He was off before he had finished his challenge, urging Arde to burst forth with speed and vigor. Keizo’s protests quickly fell behind, but that was not Makoto’s concern, no. In his desperate attempt to keep himself from flying off the back of Arde, Makoto had latched both arms around Momotaro’s middle.

This caused two uncomfortable instances to occur at the same moment.

First, Makoto’s cock was pressed back against the back of the saddle, undoing any progress he might have made at calming it down as it slid across hard leather and flush against Momotaro’s back. Secondly, in his desperation to grip something solid, one of Makoto’s hands had thrust into the Moto’s kimono, gripping a landscape of hair and well-sculpted flesh instead of furs and cloth.

Makoto felt his cheeks flush as his fingers wrapped around the muscular form of the rider in front of him, daring himself to drown out Momotaro’s laughter sounding out over the beating of hooves. Each jolt of the horse down the road forced Makoto to press himself harder against Momotaro’s back, and he could only hope that the rider’s clothing was thick enough that he couldn’t feel Makoto’s length grinding against him.

Every time he tried to move himself back, the speed of the horse pushed him forward again, and knowing that his only other choice was to risk being thrown from the saddle, Makoto held on tightly and tried to think of anything that might calm him down. Heraldry! Heraldry was dull enough to do the trick!

He started with the Imperials, mentally reciting every major family and their vassals in the sing-song way all children were taught, before moving on to the Great Clans. First the Crab: _Hida, Hiruma, Kaiu, Kuni, Yasuki_ , before moving on to the Crane. _Asahina, Daidoji…_

He bit back a cry as the image of Keizo in the onsen flooded his mind at the exact moment he was thrust back up against Momotaro’s back, and _fortunes_ what if it was _him_ he was holding onto instead? If it was _his_ body he was pressed against, _his_ chest he was holding so tightly? He let out a low whine at the thought, then chastised himself as he remembered it wasn’t true.

He skipped the rest of the Crane entirely as he went back to his heraldry recitation, deciding that the Doji were far too similar-sounding to take the risk.

They arrived at the rest stop well before Keizo and Misuki, and Makoto almost threw himself off of Arde in an attempt to regain some control of the situation he’d found himself in, angling himself away from prying eyes and fussing with his clothes in what he hoped was a subtle enough manner. Still atop his steed, Momotaro grinned down at the blushing young Scorpion.

“You have quite a grip, pretty little lord. I can think of a few good uses for talent like that.”

Evidently not subtle enough.

Makoto’s previously rosy cheeks turned scarlet, highlighting his black mask and turning his face into the perfect display of his clan’s colors as he spluttered his objections.

“I’d never want… Not with **you** , you filthy **barbarian**!”

Makoto’s protests died out as the hoof beats announced Keizo and Misuki’s arrival. Keizo looked disappointed at his loss, but his expression changed when he saw Makoto standing there, flustered and blushing and halfway toward admitting something he never meant to say out loud.

“Makoto,” Keizo began, and the Scorpion’s stomach dropped. It was all there in Keizo’s tone – he was still caught up in his loss, and now he was disappointed in him for his outburst too. As if he were any better!

“I will be securing us lodging!” He announced, and stormed off for the waystation.

 _Smug bastard, looking down on me! He thinks he’s so much better than me? Well, I don’t need him anymore_.

From the doorway to the station, Makoto looked over his shoulder at Momotaro, sitting tall and proud on top of Arde as he laughed at Keizo’s embarrassed expression.

 _Yeah,_ he thought. _Maybe I **don’t** need him anymore.  
_

* * *

It hadn't been too difficult to get lodging for the traveling party. Makoto had flashed a smile and fluttered his eyes while running his fingers along the clerk’s table, and they’d turned to putty in his hands. Child’s play, really, but _fortunes,_ after the journey he’d had he needed an easy win.

But it had been too easy, and had come with no payoff. A bit of flirting to make sure the group got a nice room and a decent dinner wasn’t the same as easing his tension, and he knew he needed to do _something_ to get a release soon. He couldn’t keep humping the back of a saddle the way he had been, no matter how involuntarily. It was degrading.

These were the thoughts that plagued him all evening, as the others ate and chatted amongst themselves. Momotaro had made a passing joke about Makoto riding hard behind him, flashing him that devilish grin again, but it seemed to have gone unnoticed by the other two. Makoto had done his best to ignore it, but now there was no doubting it – Momotaro knew exactly what had gone on in the saddle behind him, and worse, he was encouraging it.

It was hard for Makoto to think of anything else as everyone else eventually drifted off to sleep. He had never been so mortified in his life, but the Unicorn had clearly taken no issue with it. Maybe even enjoyed it? What was it he’d said – he could think of a few good uses for a grip like Makoto’s?

And he couldn’t deny the way his body had felt underneath that grip. Where Keizo was slight, Momotaro was broad, and there was just enough give under all that body hair that he didn’t feel as hard and unforgiving as he imagined Keizo would be if he were underneath him right now, and-

 _Fuck_.

He shook his head and rolled onto his stomach, chastising himself. He was meant to be thinking about _anyone but Keizo_. Keizo, who looked down on him. Keizo, who was a waste of time anyway!

Keizo, who was sleeping right over there, just a few feet away from Momotaro’s slumbering form. Makoto trained his eyes on the Unicorn instead, purposely focusing only on him as he tried to remove all other thoughts from his mind. He let himself continue his earlier train of thought, easier now that he could see him lying there, blanket barely covering his chest. The man was huge, after all, and it made Makoto wonder if he was proportionate, too.

_Benten, it would be something to blow him._

Stealth and quiet movements were something Makoto had been taught ever since he was little, and so it was no difficult thing to get out of his bed without waking the others once he’d decided that that was exactly what he was going to do.

He crossed the floor, keeping low as he worked his way across the room, and only made the mistake of looking over at Keizo once as he shifted slightly in his sleep. Makoto paused only briefly, knowing that it was only his fidgeting from his time on the Wall. He never had slept well since then…

_No! I’m **not** pitying him! _

Makoto tore his eyes away and crept beside Momotaro’s bed, and it was so much easier now that he was this close. A tingle of pure excitement shot up Makoto’s neck as he placed a single finger on Momotaro’s lips. It was all he’d need to do to wake him. Makoto had observed all three of them sleeping, of course: Keizo was always reaching for his weapons and Misuki would dart away if woken up by something, but Momotaro could be stirred without too much of a ruckus.

The Moto groggily opened his eyes, trying to figure out what had woken him up, and for a split-second Makoto wondered if he’d read the signs wrong. But then Momotaro’s lips shifted into that grin under his fingertip, and relief washed over him.

Without a word, Makoto peeled away the rest of the blankets and ran an appreciative hand down Momotaro’s chest, yanking at the hair there just enough to make him bite back a soft cry. It was almost a novelty, the way it covered him, and Makoto took to brushing his hands through it just to get used to its texture, fingers skirting around dusky nipples but never quite giving them the attention they so desperately needed, if Momotaro’s quiet keening was anything to go by.

When he’d had his fun – because this was about _his_ fun, not anyone else’s – Makoto slid the top of Momotaro’s trousers down to reveal that his cock was just as big as he’d suspected, and so hard from all the teasing that it was already leaking at the tip. Taking it in his hand, Makoto licked an experimental stripe up his shaft, testing to see how much pressure would be enough to push Momotaro just close enough to moaning, then tightened his grip at the base as he flicked his tongue over the slit.

He wondered, idly, if he’d be able to fit something this big all the way inside, and that maybe he should have sought out another partner who wasn’t quite as large. He was lucky to catch himself before he started thinking about just who might fit that description, and swallowed the head of Momotaro’s cock in one smooth motion to give himself something else to focus on.

Makoto moved his tongue slowly at first, pushing the Moto’s hips down with his free hand to stop him from thrusting up into him before he was ready to take his full length. By the time he felt wide, rough fingers working their way through his hair, he was already working his way down inch by inch, swallowing as much as he could as he worked the rest of his shaft with his hand. Momotaro could be greedy and try to push him down all he liked, but Makoto was determined to set the pace on this one, and grazed his teeth against his delicate skin ever so slightly as a warning. The pushing stopped, but the fingers didn’t move either, so he wasn’t sure if it counted as a win.

Finally, when he’d taken in as much of Momotaro’s cock as he could, Makoto hollowed out his cheeks and slid up, rocking his head back and forth in a slow, steady rhythm, mixing up the pressure he applied with his tongue so as to keep his partner on his toes. The Moto’s breathing was erratic, and Makoto could hear him whispering what he could only assume were garbled words of encouragement in some unknown foreign language every time he wrapped his tongue around his head and plunged back down toward the base.

When Momotaro began to shudder beneath him, Makoto felt a twinge of disappointment alongside his pride in his performance, the thrill and delight he normally experienced in causing his partner to climax. It wasn’t that it hadn’t lasted long enough – in fact, it was quite the opposite, because he was _aching_ for release – but there was something else bothering him that he couldn’t quite put his finger on until his eyes roamed off to the side again, lingering on Keizo just a few feet away.

The guilt hit him at the same time Momotaro’s orgasm did, and his eyes widened in surprise as his mouth was filled with pulse after pulse of hot, bitter cum. To his credit, the Moto was mostly silent, letting out only a suppressed sigh of delight as he came. Makoto lowered his head as he swallowed, holding back a cough, then sat up and licked his lips. Now that he didn’t have Momotaro to focus on, his own arousal seemed much more urgent, and he ground his erection down against his partner’s thigh to signal that they weren’t done yet. 

Once Makoto had steadied himself over Momotaro’s chest, he parted his robes and exposed his own cock only inches away from his face. Momotaro raised his eyebrow as if to ask what the Scorpion expected him to do with it. Makoto rolled his eyes and grabbed his own cock in his hand and began stroking. _Selfish prick._

After today a stiff breeze could probably finish the job for him, but he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed the thrill of having the others sleeping so close by. Distracted, his eyes scanned the room. At some point Misuki had rolled over in her sleep, and Makoto had to bite back a laugh as he realized that if she opened her eyes right now she’d see him crouched over her companion, Momotaro clearly not protesting but also not comfortable with a dick in his face. In sharp contrast, even now Keizo had turned his back on him. He scowled at him, certain that if he just leaned forward enough he could grab at his blanket and jolt him awake, letting him know exactly what it was he was up to with Momotaro when it should have been him instead.

It should be Keizo's broad shoulders beneath him, Keizo's hazel eyes staring up at him, not this barbarian's mud brown. Instead of Momotaro's scruffy jaw set firmly closed, it should be Keizo's pert mouth, open, wet, inviting- Makoto couldn't keep himself from glancing over to find the mouth in question. He could spot it, see the sweat glistening on Keizo's lips as he breathed shallow breaths through his open mouth. He pictured that perfectly round mouth wrapping around his dick, warm, wet, willing, and Keizo would look up into his eyes... _Benten_. Makoto instantly came at that thought, shooting a substantial load all over Momotaro’s face. The arousal he’d been so overcome with was immediately replaced by something awful and empty. He could barely even acknowledge how upset Momotaro looked by what had been done to him, and only went so far as to toss a small handkerchief from his robes at him before closing them and stalking quietly back to his own bed. In the silence and shame that followed, he tried to pretend that none of it had ever happened.

…

_Perhaps it’s for the best._


	2. The Lessons Begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto resents Momotaro's refusal to reciprocate a gift, and decides it's time to teach him a lesson. Momotaro gets more than he bargains for when he tries to mess with the Scorpion.

The taste of something bitter and salty on his lips was the first thing Makoto registered as he woke. The second was the memories of the night before. Shame and arousal simultaneously swept through him as he mentally replayed the events on the horse, with Momotaro, and the thoughts of Keizo. 

_ Fortunes, _ he thought as he rolled over to hide his erection. This wasn’t just morning wood.  _ You horny bastard,  _ he mentally yelled at his dick.  _ You’re a traitor to the Scorpion clan. They’re supposed to beg for it, not you.  _

But his mind was already calculating, looking for an angle, a way to use this. Blackmail? Perhaps. But the Unicorn were infamous for their devil-may-care attitude, and the Moto didn’t require that much persuasion in the first place, so blackmail would likely be an ineffective method. 

Seduction then? The Moto seemed perfectly willing to receive but put off at the idea of reciprocating, an unfortunately all too common attitude among many warriors he had had encounters with in the past. At least that is how their encounters started; by the time Makoto was done with them, most of them were eager to perform to please him. There was nothing more frustrating than a selfish, inconsiderate partner and nothing quite so fun as turning the tables on them, molding them into lovesick, longing pawns… Serves them right.

Perhaps this was an excellent learning opportunity for his Moto party member. An opportunity to help him better himself. It wouldn’t be an easy task, he was pretty sure the Moto’s affections already had a different target in mind, but breaking him would certainly be a challenge and an entertaining way to pass the time for the rest of the trip.

As Makoto dressed and prepared for the day, he monitored the Moto out of the corner of his eye, watching for any reaction from the man. As transparent and easy to read as the Moto typically was, this morning he was surprisingly guarded. He wasn’t blatantly ignoring the Scorpion, but he did manage to evade any eye contact. Makoto smirked. 

_ Yes. This would be a fun challenge.  _

* * *

As the party began gathering their things and preparing for departure, Makoto took the opportunity to take care of his erection before they left. It didn’t take too long replaying last night’s events for him to come, and he found himself relieved at the thought that the Moto wouldn’t have a reason to smirk at him while riding. At least not for a few hours. Hopefully… 

The Unicorn were readying the horses as Keizo and Makoto brought out the last of their possessions. Makoto briefly wondered if the Moto would find an excuse to swap riding partners, and he was unsure if that would be a frustrating or relieving turn of events. But Momotaro didn’t say a word, belting Unicorn military cadences as usual as he prepped Arde. Finally it was time to mount up. Makoto had learned to use the stirrups to get up on the horse himself, but more often than not, Momotaro enjoyed grabbing the Scorpion and yanking him up onto the horse, with more force than necessary. 

But today, to his surprise, Momotaro reached down and grabbed him firmly by the waist and pulled him up and sat him in front of him, and to his utter mortification, backwards, facing Momotaro. 

_ What in the nine Realms? _

It took everything in his training to control his flush as he found himself face-to-face, or face-to-chest honestly, with the handsome Unicorn. At least his broad shoulders shielded him from view from their companions on Misuki’s horse behind them. 

“It’s time you learn to ride backward, tiny Scorpion!” he declared gaily. “Any Unicorn worth their salt can ride forward, backward, even standing!” 

Makoto peeked around the man and caught Misuki throwing Momotaro a confused and bemused glance, but thankfully not one of suspicion. She was clearly used to his shenanigans. Momotaro, on the other hand, was grinning wickedly, as only Makoto could see. 

_ Keep smiling. You’re going to regret this. _

As they took off in a trot, Makoto realized why the Moto put them in such a compromising position. Without the ability to grip the animal well with his legs, the rough gait of the horse caused Makoto to bounce in his seat, his groin rubbing up against the object directly in front of him--Momotaro’s member. Makoto instantly went hard at both the thought and the physical sensation, and felt the Moto’s grin deepen. 

_ Two can play at that game.  _

Hands hidden from prying eyes, Makoto slowly untied the fastens holding the man’s furs closed and pulled the furs open to give access to the man’s chest. It somehow seemed even more muscular and hairy than he remembered from the previous night, though he had been… distracted. 

_ But not this morning. Now you get my  _ full  _ attention.  _

Makoto began running his slender fingers aimlessly along the broad chest. As a trained Bayushi courtier, he knew every sensitive spot on the body and how best to stimulate it. His fingers softly caressed the man’s collarbone, then lower to draw concentric circles on the man’s chest, smaller and smaller until he reached the man’s nipples. Based on the sounds the man had tried to hold back the previous night, Makoto had a hunch he knew at least one place the man was sensitive. The gasp he elicited from flicking his fingers over the man’s nipples confirmed his hunch. And from the surprise evident in that gasp, he gathered that the man had never truly experienced pleasure from anywhere other than his dick before.

_ Figures, you brute. Welcome to my world.  _ Now Makoto was the one grinning up at the Moto, and as they locked eyes, Momotaro involuntarily flushed a deep crimson. 

Makoto continued to explore the man’s exposed chest with absolutely no sense of urgency, slowly running his fingers along his chest, tracing the man’s muscles, down to the top of his pelvis and then back up again, and occasionally but only briefly lightly brushing or roughly pinching the man’s nipples. That always earned a quiet but audible moan, so he made sure to only tease them briefly before returning to other areas. _Bingo._

* * *

After a solid twenty minutes of teasing, Momotaro’s breathing was absolutely ragged and his pupils so dilated Makoto could barely see the brown in them. Makoto was worried that if the man didn’t get release soon, the Moto would be in for a world of hurt. And as funny as it would be for the Moto to call for a dismount to jerk himself off, it would be too conspicuous and he was pretty sure Momotaro would physically hurt him later as thanks. 

Makoto let his hands drift further south and into the folds of material covering the Unicorn’s Horn. As he softly gripped it with both hands, he was delighted to find he already had its fullest attention, though after twenty minutes of warm-up, he would be insulted by anything less. As he caressed the member, he saw Moto close his eyes in anticipation. 

He began stroking the head gently, drawing unpredictable patterns with his slender fingers. He could see the frustration in the man’s face as he longed for a more substantial, firm touch. Makoto began exerting less and less pressure with each stroke until the gentlest of feathered touches eventually made Momotaro open his eyes angrily to look down and see if Makoto’s hand was still there or just a lingering phantom touch. 

Makoto took that moment to lock eyes with Momotaro and firmly grab his rock-hard cock and was rewarded with a throaty moan, as the man involuntarily thrust forward into his hand. Makoto smiled and began working the shaft with both hands, pumping while still maintaining eye contact. Momotaro broke his gaze first, closing his eyes and leaning his head back, and Makoto immediately ceased all movement.

The warrior opened his eyes, full of fury, a clear protest or threat on his lips that turned into a sigh as Makoto began again, stroking the cock firmly and making eye contact. The Moto wasn’t the brightest apple in the bunch, so he began to close his eyes again, and Makoto again stopped moving. When he opened his eyes, even further enraged, and Makoto resumed stroking, understanding finally dawned on the Moto and he scowled but didn't look away. His eyes blazed with lust and desire and begging for release. 

Makoto slowly increased the speed of his strokes until they matched the rhythm of the horse’s gallop. Momotaro’s breathing was labored and his lids so heavy it was clearly all he could do to obey and keep them open and the Scorpion knew he only had seconds. Maintaining speed with his hands, he leaned forward toward Momotaro’s still exposed chest and sucked hard on his right nipple, flicking his tongue over the hardened nib. 

The unexpected surge of pleasure was enough to send Momotaro soaring over the edge, and he came hard with a shudder and a groan, shooting his load directly at Makoto’s face. He looked down, mortified, but Makoto licked the cum slowly off his lips and watched as Momotaro, in a daze, traced the movement with his eyes. 

Makoto was downright gleeful but took care not to show it on his face. 

_Yes._ _You’ll be my bitch soon enough._

With the agility of a Shosuro acrobat, Makoto maneuvered around in his seat to face forward. Momotaro was too spent to even react and as he fell into a deep sleep, Makoto took the reins. 


End file.
